The Fame
by Point of Departure
Summary: //SasuSaku AU// Adopted by one of the worlds richest women at sixteen, Sakura has a lot to learn about living in fame. Especially after coming from an orphanage. And who's to say that it's worth it? - She DOESN'T KNOW WHO UCHIHA SASUKE IS! - R&R -
1. Magazines

**The Fame**

**Chapter 1: Magazines**

**Written by: muddyapplz ~ Puddle Productions**

* * *

It's been only a week since I was adopted. People had told me I was lucky to survive the house fire that consumed my parents as a child, but I never believed them. After all, I was just a _baby_. How often to baby's have luck? But, any older, and I might not have been stuck to the floor, where there was little smoke, struggling on my limbs. At least that's what the orphanage told me. I suppose it was just luck that the firemen discovered me in time. And I suppose it was just luck that Tsunade, one of the wealthiest women alive, chose _me_, a _sixteen_ _year old_, to take in as her own. I have no talents, I reminded her, nothing special, yet she insisted. Deep in the recesses of my mind, I wondered if it was just a celebrity thing; to adopt the most unfortunate, uneducated children. Tsunade simply explained that she had a good feeling about me. As if that wasn't enough to make me suspicious. It wasn't her first time adopting one of my kind. What really got me thinking was: why choose a girl with such exotic hair? And a teenager, nonetheless.

I dismissed my doubts and was set of being happy, because, hey, how bad can being rich be?

* * *

My high heeled shoes click against the dirty public pavement gracefully. Maybe if you listen closely, you can hint the paranoia. I had asked Tsunade's guards to back off a bit, maybe watch me from the shadows, as to not attract too much attention. What was the point of having a scarf to veil my hair and wearing those wide rimmed, tinted sunglasses, even though the sky was clearly a dull grey, if I was going to be found out anyways? I understand how Tsunade must feel; an amateur like me roaming the streets of Amegakure City. But logically, tall, wide shouldered men clad in all black following a girl protectively _must_ attract the pedestrian's eye. She had suggested I stay inside the hotel room, sleep until we leave, but being showered with room service and paparazzi the whole week is really exhausting, and not to mention bothersome. How is anyone going to get some peace and quiet in all that ruckus? I just had to leave, see the world, just as I used to in the orphanage. Being cooped up in a room is just not my style.

I strut on the sidewalk, watching the normal people walk carelessly by me. A young couple is making out on a bench; no one bothers them. An old man struggles down the street; no one helps him. A homeless woman, hugging her two children close to her, begs for money; no one sees her. I am compelled to help, but something catches my eye.

At a nearby magazine stand, on the cover of C-Weekly, is a paparazzi shot of Tsunade walking me out of a salon. I read the large bold beside us: 'Pampering the poor? Tsunade brings new adopted teenager to salon?' The man at the stand sees me staring and beckons me over.

"Would you like to purchase one?" He inquires right away. I pick up the magazine with me on in and slide it on the counter. The man looks at me questioningly.

"Do you think Tsunade really likes the girl? Or is she just using her?"

"Using her for what?"

"Fame, of course." I explain, sliding the magazine back onto the rack.

"Can't say. Not many know what Tsunade's intentions are, Ma'am. It's said that she gets her hands on the worlds most talented. Many reckon that the new girl has some sort of rich skill. Wouldn't you say?"

I grin kindheartedly at him, "Not at all. She doesn't look skilled in the slightest."

"Quite bold words you have there. Got any proof?" He chuckles.

"None," I respond, shaking my head lightly, "Just instinct."

"Well, instinct can only take you so far."

I smile, but the man doesn't do the same. Instead, he is studying my face. Not for my reaction, but the curves and the shape of it. I panic and reach for a random magazine, pretending to look over the cover when I am actually shielding my face. Surprisingly, this magazine isn't about me. It's an issue from 'WHAT' magazines. On the cover is an onyx haired male, blanketed in a white, baggy sweater that is unzipped, exposing his pale toned chest. He shoves his hands in his pants pockets, tilting his head back coolly in a pose for the camera. He looks like he's glaring at me. In oversized red letter, as if the editor forgot to take off the 'caps lock', it reads: 'Sasuke Uchiha, sexiest man alive? _So true_, says millions of woman out there.'

In pure curiosity, I display the magazine in front of the salesman, and say: "Who's this?"

The man doesn't hide out astonished he is. It's almost as if he's looking at me like he would a dumb one. His eyes, wide an all, say, 'You, a _woman_, doesn't know who _he_ is? '

"Why, Ma'am, it says it on the cover."

"No, no. I mean, why is he so famous?" I correct.

"Pardon me, but, as it says on the cover, he was voted the most wanted man alive."

I frown in disgruntlement.

"But surely he is known something other than that. What does he do: act, dance?"

"Everything, naturally. It's not just his looks that they prize him for. Haven't you seen any of the award ceremonies? I don't know how many he's won. Can't count on ten fingers alone, anyways." The man looks at me to see if I am pleased, but I am lost in the picture, "Good news for all of the women out there, though: He's single."

I glance up briefly at the salesperson, not noticing how he is staring.

"Hey," He says in thought, realizing something, "Your remind me of someone."

"I've never met you before, so that's not entirely possible," I reply quickly, backing away from the stand a half a step.

"No, no. Someone from a picture," he mumbles, squinting at me. Suddenly, he reaches over and snatches my shades. Dumbfounded, I gaze at him in disbelief. He gasps at my emerald eyes, my pink eyebrows. In a moment, my guards are at my side, leading me away when a small crowd gathers from the excited yells of the salesman, "That was her! I was talking to her! Tsunade's adopted child! Sakura! Haruno, Sakura!"

The man was pointing at my retreating figure, causing curious looks and excited smiles to go my way. People will do anything to get close to a celebrity, although I couldn't really say I counted as one. As a limousine pulls up by an empty curb, already camera lights are flashing. The guards help me into the back and the driver hits accelerate. It starts raining.

* * *

I rip the off center fabric from my head and throw it onto the hotel couch. Tsunade is waiting for me, so I scurry over, taking a seat on the couch across from her. She shortly looks my way before turning the TV, a flat screen hanging on the far wall, on. The channel is already set to 'WHATTV', as indicated from the red and white logo in the right corner. I slump in my seat when an inconspicuous picture of me standing at the magazine stand flashes onto the screen, then another of the salesman reaching over and snatching my shades.

The reporter begins speaking:

'_Just this hour, as it seems, Tsunade's adopted teen was spotted conversing free willingly with the public! As bystanders say: _She was quite under the radar._ Will she be different from the barely seen Tsunade? Many have only been hoping. Ms. Haruno had decided to take a stroll down the busy streets of Amegakure, when, as reports have claimed, she took a stop at a nearby magazine stand. Let's bring it over to Kira for the latest news on that:'_

The screen switches over to another female reporter, this one standing by the magazine stand, holding a microphone in one hand, and an umbrella in the other.

'_Here we are, at the very magazine stand that Ms. Haruno has made her first alone public appearance. We have Alfred Wane with the claims on Ms. Haruno's words. Mr. Wane, why do you think Ms. Haruno came to your stand?'_

The man I met before comes into view, talking as the female puts the microphone to his face:

'_I honestly have no idea, Kira. She was walking by and came over to comment on how wonderfully my magazines were organized.'_

I jaw falls. Mr. Wane continues:

'_She walked over, looking much like a normal pedestrian to me, and started asking about one of my magazines.'_

Reporter: _'And which one was that?'_

Mr. Wane: _'The one with her on it, of course. I reckon she doesn't like being on cover pages, by the way her mouth seemed to frown. I must say, she was quite the mannered girl, chuckling cutely and asking nicely. I felt very comfortable around her.'_

Reporter: _'Oh! Please elaborate on her questions!'_

Mr. Wane: _'She was asking me why I think Ms. Tsunade chose her. I said I don't recall anything suspicious about it, but that other people reckon she's got some special talent. She told me she doesn't think she has a talent. I wondered why, because the girl sure did seem like she had a forte for kindness.'_

Reporter: _'What else did she talk about?'_

Mr. Wane: _'Well, she wasn't quite fond of Mr. Uchiha, considering she was asking about who he was.'_

Wait for it…

Reporter: _'No!'_ She gasps, covering her mouth. Several other breath intakes are heard from the sidelines.

Mr. Wane: _'I couldn't believe it myself! She was truly clueless about him, so I elaborated. Couldn't understand why Ms. Tsunade never taught her about the other celebrities out there. Do you reckon there is television in an orphanage? Because Ms. Haruno must have been quite isolated from the social world.'_

Reporter: _'No doubt. Well, how has business been going in the last hour?'_

Mr. Wane: _'Very well, if I may say so. Ms. Haruno really helped me out there. I sold—"_

Tsunade turns the television off, sighing in relief, "It's not as bad as I had feared."

I sigh as well, sinking into the cushions. Tsunade gazes tiredly at me, mumbling, "Please, be more careful in the public. Never just _stand_ there when you're noticed. Just walk away casually. You don't want to seem like an idiot, do you?"

I scowl at nothing, recalling how I didn't escape when I had the chance. We sit there in fatigue silence before Tsunade ruins it.

"Would you like to go have singing lessons? Or maybe dance?" She questions casually, leaving me the whole decision.

I raise a brow, "Why would I need that?"

"Don't you want to become famous?" She asks, tilting her head curiously, "I'm simply providing you with the means to do so."

I grin heartedly at her.

_To be continued…_

* * *

**A/N: Just another idea. Almost done with chapter 3 of ITML (In The Midst of Luforther). I wanted to get this idea out of my head before anything else. I have future plans for it, and so far I like how it's going. Yeah, this is short, but it's late and I need to get started on my summer homework (I had to read TWO books/plays, talk about boring!) Two weeks of my summer was spent going to school, these past two weeks was a relaxing/cleaning time, and now I have less than a month until I leave for school! GOSH! **

**Aaanyywayys:**

**Disclaimer****: I do not own Naruto…. Yet (jk jk). I don't, and most likely will never, own it.**

**Written and edited by: muddyapplz**

_**Please Review! They are appreciated (because, seriously, I only got ONE review for my second chapter of ITML. What a letdown… I know it was boring, but PLEASE!)**_


	2. Clueless

**The Fame**

**Chapter 2: Clueless**

**Written by: muddyapplz/ A p p l e - S h o p ~ Puddle Productions**

The next morning I wake up soar. Maybe it's the stress, or maybe I just got used to staying inside that I forgot how it felt to walk around yesterday. My room is dark and stuffy, provided that the long clear windows are thickly shaded with ivory silk curtains. I leave the king-sized bed messy when I leave the room, keeping the door open. The living room lights are on, illuminating the leather couches and the glass coffee table. The clock on the wall reads six thirty two.

_Yet another day of boringness,_ I think, hoping with all of my might that we will depart soon. I just HAVE to wake up at six thirty to sorrow in the confines of my dreary room, don't I? Sighing, I walk toward the kitchen, which has its own lights on as well.

Last night I had said to Tsunade that I was undecided. I don't know what I want to do in life. Before I was selected among those poor unfortunate children, getting a job seemed lucky to me. Fame was never a thing I had dreamt about; it was something impossible, and therefore not worth my time. Heck, I don't even think I _want_ it now.

_Fame, fame, fame!_ That's all everyone wants in life! Because fame equals money, and money equals power. It's a natural desire to want power, isn't it…? Well, I guess I can't count myself as human then. All _I_ ever wanted was happiness, although that's unattainable now.

What _is_ true happiness anyway? …

It really depends on the person, I guess. That, or it doesn't exist. Just like true or eternal peace doesn't exist.

Say I _did_ become famous (or more known than _now_). Would that bring me happiness?

"Sakura." Tsunade greets as I walk into the kitchen.

"Tsunade."

"You know," She starts, "You should really start calling me Mom, since I _am_ –"

"No thanks." I whisper, preparing a bowl of cereal.

I'm not sure if Tsunade hears me or not, but she stops, allowing a silence to fill the room. She was never one to spring up conversation too well, I presume. Mom is just not a word I plan to use, ever. Not for anyone. I only had one, anyways, and she's dead.

Nonetheless, I dismiss all of this.

"I was thinking," She begins after a minute, choosing her words. I look over my shoulder from the granite counter, "That we should ditch this hotel today."

My pink eyebrows rise, "Why?"

"I figured, since you're _undecided_, that I'd show you around. Obviously you won't find out how life really is yourself," Tsunade says, swinging around in her tool at the center counter to look at me, "_Plus_, the media has been giving me crap about your cluelessness."

There is nothing else to say other than, "Okay." Because bluntly, every other response that goes through my head doesn't make sense.

* * *

Tsunade's people move quickly. An hour before noon, everything from each wardrobe to the loads of food packed into the refrigerator is inconspicuously removed and stored. Nothing is left in any nook or cranny, and she even goes as far as having _her _maids clean for the _hotel_ maids. I just sit in the limo until everything is done.

Tsunade's philosophy about touring: We don't trash.

* * *

I should have known where Tsunade was going to take me initially. Where else than to see the very person I don't know about, nor care about? Tsunade hadn't told me where we were heading, but I just allege that when we park in front of this large block building – after some officers manage to fend off the crowd of demented girls, who were bawling 'Sasuke' over and over – that he was somewhere in there.

Fortunately when I get out, most girls are too occupied fantasizing to detect me. I make it in safe and sound… A young lady greets us and leads us up to the fourth floor. Stepping out of the elevator...

In the black of night… Out of nowhere – !

"Sakura!"

He scoops me up in his arms, squeezing me tight. Rainbow colored stars and dots fill my eyes as he spins me. I don't even know who _he_ is.

"I wasn't expecting you guys to come!" He exclaims contentedly, situating me on the floorboards. My jade orbs have yet to stop whirling, "Tsunade said you had a few more days of touring!"

In front of me is this unknown blonde boy. An aura of awkwardness surrounds me and I grimace, because I perceptibly don't remember him as much as he does me. Well, who wouldn't distinguish me nowadays? Any person who doesn't live under a rock would. And he doesn't _look _like he lives under a rock.

"Naruto, boy!" Tsunade scolds ruthlessly, "You nearly scared the girl half to death. And for the last _freakin'_ _time_, you don't have a _stealth_ _mode_!"

And _just_ as my vision is finally at ease, I see said boy chortle playfully, straight white teeth practically blinding me. _He's cute_, I think, but there is just something… not right. Maybe it's the way he can't stop grinning at me, which frankly has its own level of creepy.

"I'm Naruto." He smiles.

Obviously.

"I'm Sakura."

I extend a hand, but he just picks me up again in elation. Oww.

"Gosh, you're short!" He huffs, "I mean, I knew you were, but… Wow!"

He sets me down on the hard tile floor and looks back at me in amazement. There goes my sight again. Now I can't even tell how much taller this ass says he is… I hold my head and groan in aggravation, "What the hell? How 'bout some warning next time, and _maybe_ an introduction _before_hand!"

"Oo, feisty little girl, I see." He muses, "I thought I told Tsunade to choose a _good _one."

"Shut up, boy!" She growls in response, "You shouldn't expect people to act any different around _you_. Besides, _I_ was the one who chose you, so don't _judge_ my _judg_ment."

"Granny, did _you_ _know_ that _you_ put _a lot_ of _emphasis_ on things?"

I glower at both parties.

"So why are we even here? Tsunade." I ask, politer, to say the least.

"We came here to pick up Naruto," Cue smiley Naruto wave, "And because I need to do some business here. I thought you'd enjoy a little of it. Naruto could teach you –"

She pauses to think, "Wait. I'm sorry: He can _try_ to teach you."

I point to the spiky blonde haired kid, "Why do we need to pick up _him_?"

Naruto feigns hurt. Neither Tsunade nor I pay any mind to him.

"He's your brother."

_Great._

* * *

"And this here is the bathroom… where people… use the bathroom.

And _this_ here is the couch,

And that's the T.V…

There… that little _dot_ on the ceiling, is where I threw a pencil up and it when through."

Proud grin…,

"Outside that window is where everyone keeps there trailers, and were the director sets up.

But outside _that_ hell window, is where the _fans_ are… Ugh.

And hey! That's Sasuke!"

Ew…

_To be continued…_

* * *

**A/N: Sorry! I know this is short, but I'm just BLANK right now! I have no idea where this fic is heading, and it scares me. School has been blocking my mind from brainstorming (because when I started this probably a billion years ago, the plot was all worked out in my head). I'm in a play and it premieres the DAY AFTER we come back from thanksgiving break, and it is tormenting me. We only have ONE reahersal before it, and the last practice was HORRIBLE, I'll tell you. **

**On the up side: I'm on Thanksgiving Break! Woohoo! Ten days off (well… five, now)! (That's what you get when you go to a boarding school) I'm glad I get this relaxation time/ writing time, and I hope you all are excited to read my new update (s). I need to write quick, though, because I have TONS of homework, plus half the time I am going to be at my cousins lake house for Thanksgiving weekend.**

**I saw New Moon! ****Which makes me very happy. For those of you who haven't exactly seen it, I recommend the trip to the theater. It was amazing, although not as amazing as I wanted. I mean, in my head, I could have done better directing (and chose a better soundtrack -_-)**

**Still, I also saw Star Trek (dvd), and nothing beats that. It was way better than I have EVER expected any movie to be. (My favorite so far).**

**-_- it's really bugging me how short this is…**


	3. Shut Up

**The Fame**

**Chapter 3: Shut Up**

**written by: _A p p l e - S h o p_ ~ Puddle Productions**

* * *

I can summarize every famous person out there as:

1) Good looking; and damn, doesn't that just make you feel _ugly_. Especially if it is one of the opposite sex— weird, right?

2) Naturally talented: or in other words, born lucky.

And:

3) Fortunate.

Each one of these is something that cannot live without the other in a famed person. Sure, there are a lot of striking, gifted people in the world, but none ever really achieve something. That's why I never bothered with the arts, not that I had the opportunity. It's just futile. Fame is something like a competition. You may be good, but you have to be the best. In the end, _that_ won't bring you anywhere without chance. I mean, look at these Youtube stars! How the hell did they get famous?

Luck, that's how…

Anyone can be a writer, or a teacher, or a doctor.

But not everyone can be famous.

I know this makes me a hypocrite. People are all probably thinking the same thing, but about me. The only difference is I am just lucky; not pretty or talented.

I look to where Naruto points and find a, might I say, very gorgeous pale boy with dark hair. His hair is not short nor long, but spiky, and in a cute way that contrasts from his handsome jaw line too perfectly to describe. He sits in one of the chairs studying a clean script. I recognize him from the cover of that magazine… _that _magazine— and he looks _exactly_ the same. Which is relatively scary— and shocking— for many reasons that are unexplainable.

I always thought that stars were photo shopped…

I guess Sasuke Uchiha was born with one built into his face…

Huh.

The model looks up at us with a glare, and I scowl to myself. He'd look a lot better without the awful expression. Naruto's mood seems to sink as well, and he leads me over to the moody teenager. My apparent brother glowers back.

"Hello, _Sasuke_." Naruto says, fending off an anger glare as said person simply looks back onto his script.

"In your usual emo mood, I see. Well, don't let me interrupt. Besides, I don't really feel like talking to you," Glare, "but I am compelled to do so because I need to introduce—"

"I know who she is. And she knows who I am."

I gaze over to Naruto, but I don't get time to see his reaction because I am being tugged away by the elbow. He leads me down stairs and out the door to the set of whatever movie was being shot here, sighing in exasperation, "It's always a bad idea to bring _people_ around him. Loner."

"Aloha! Aloha!"

Coming from the camera area and set up, toward Naruto and I, is a middle aged man in huge sun glasses. I scrutinize the Hawaiian floral shirt and khaki shorts he is wearing, because it's unbelievable how he can bear that in such chilly weather.

"Sakura! I've been expecting you! Why didn't you tell me you were here?" He pinches both of my cheeks painfully. I smack one hand away, albeit it being rude. He pulls back and smiles, "She's perfect! I cannot wait to see her in action!"

He isn't talking to me, but more to the general public. Which, in this case, is the crew.

"Huh?" I blurt out, looking up at Naruto briefly for more info, but I just see him smiling faintly to himself.

"I can't wait to see you acting, my dear," He repeats before snapping his fingers twice and yelling, "Shikamaru! Get the paperwork! Where's Tsunade? Isn't she here? Hmph!... And get this girl something to drink,"— and to me, leaning over, he says with a bright smile, "What would you like? Juice, water?"

"How 'bout soda?"

His forehead creases and he purses his lips together. I can't see his eyes, unfortunately, "Ooh, sorry. No can do," He straightens up and yells, "Get her water!"

I frown to myself. I will never understand these people.

* * *

There is clear tension in the truck— limo's generally attract too much attention to be used all the time , hence the change of vehicile— as we drive to our new hotel. It is choking me, almost like there is a gas that only exists in the space between Naruto and Tsunade. I just happen to be in that space; Tsunade on my right and Naruto on my left.

"I _refuse_ to let mydaughter work with that pervert of a director!" Tsunade exclaims with more antagonism than usual. She indignantly crosses her arms with a huff.

"Grandma_ma_! He's only a pervert to you, and besides, this can mean a huge amount of money on your part!" Naruto sooths, trying with all of his might to convince the poor lady, even by resulting to extreme measures: "You know, you never quite… did well with money."

"Who's the parent here, Naruto?" Tsunade snaps, glaring daggers.

"…Right now, you're not being one." Mutters Naruto, more to himself than to anyone else. I stiffen up in the small space I have, feeling the heat buildup. Naruto's words are followed by a pregnant silence, in which I have trouble breathing in, too scared to break it.

"For goodness sakes!" Tsunade bursts out in exasperation. And suddenly they are both yelling heatedly at each other, and directly into my ears.

"Grannie!"

"Naruto, no!"

"Why not? I don't see why Sakura can't have a normal life!—"

"_Normal_?"

"Fame!"

"Fame my ass! This isn't fame—!"

"Yes, it is!—"

"I want her to achieve it by other means, not by falling to those _Disney_ star level celebs—!"

"Disney?"

"Yes! Much like you…"

"Oh _bull crap_! How else is someone supposed to get famous?"

"I don't _know_, but I'll find a way-"

"Let Sakura work for the old man! Do it for the polar bears!"

"…"

"…"

Now simultaneously:

"Naruto you make no sense—"

"I just want the best for her-"

"stop talking about this because-"

"because I care, and Grannie _please_-"

"MY DECISION IS FINAL!"

"Don't I have any say in this?" I scream, having cupped the area around my ears because of the volume of the two. Slowly I lower my hands and glare at both parties, "At all?"

Two pairs of eyes, calming down, now stare at me expectantly. I open my mouth to speak, "You both are fighting futilely. Neither one of you gets to decide my future" Scowl, "and neither one of you was making a valid point. The only thing I actually _heard_ and _understood_ was the fact that _you_ don't want me to work with this guy and _you_ do." I point to aforementioned persons that hold these views.

"…"

"…"

"You were both spouting nonsense," I stated, eyeing Naruto, "Especially you, I mean, 'Do it for the polar bears'? _Very_ convincing; kudos to you." I roll my eyes at my own sarcasm, and the only thing I get in return is a strangely frightening glare. I now shut my mouth.

Tsunade sighs, running a hand through her silky blonde hair, and Naruto leans back into the car seat, crossing his arms and pouting childishly.

"She right, as unfortunate and out of character as that sounds coming from me."

Naruto leans forward, eyes and mouth wide, to gaze around me at Tsunade, whom has her legs crossed and is looking out the window away from us. As if she senses Naruto eyes, she grumbles, "About the '_her_ future' thing, not about me spouting nonsense."

The blonde boy went back to his previous position of sulk, and my eye twitched with the strange sensation I had to backtalk, though that would be rude, and I've done enough impolite actions in my short time in this new life.

A minute later, after being engulfed by silence, Tsunade spoke again, "We'll leave this matter unsettled until we reach our destination… I'm tired of arguing in the car, and we have no less than an hour to go until we arrive at the hotel. Make use of that hour."

In response, I sink down in my seat, straining to get comfortable. Naruto collapses in a heap, fast asleep. For the next hour I concentrate my brain on counting how many times the pair of dice hanging from the rearview mirror swing back and forth. I don't get past forty before I fall asleep as well.

_To be continued…_

* * *

**An apple for your thoughts?**

**A/N: Oh no! Another short chapter! I am really loosing it here! I have so much inspiration during the day, but when I get on the computer, all of it is lost. I am currently grieving over the fact that my five page or more (front and back) plan for an ENTIRE new story is lost, and all of it written on blank printing paper, in small handwriting. It makes me sad…. But, back to the point, I have hit writers block. Right now I am on summer vacation, and have many plans already scheduled. I have simply no time… ****but I will make it happen ****either way.**

**Sincerely,**

**A p p l e – S h o p**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto… I would be way busier if I did :P.**

**Ps: Sorry about the title. FF wouldn't freakin' let me center it! I don't know why, but its aggravating!**


	4. Hazy

~x~X~x~

**The Fame**

Chapter 4: Hazy

Written by: _applzrgud4u_

(check author's note at bottom afterwards)

~x~X~x~

I wake up the next morning with a start. The blinds on a not so familiar windowpane are shut, blocking out the sky. I can't precisely tell what time of day it is, but I can only guess that its way earlier than I ever planned on waking up. Around me is a king sized bed blanketed with sleek white sheets that are cool to the touch— probably because of the blowing air conditioner on the opposing wall. It's too dark to see, and I don't want to remove myself from the warmth my body has created under the blankets.

So for a few minutes I just bunch up under the covers, trying to find the dream that I had lost…

Failing at that, I unwillingly kick the blankets to the base of the bed and let my body adjust to the temperature, albeit attempting to keep warm by bunching up even more. Finally I decide to stir, convincing myself that if I did, I would get warmer. I mean, movement brings heat, right?

_Yes_, I agree inwardly, _Move._ And with this I sit up and rock my feet over the side of the bed. As they hit the— also— bitter floor, I freeze (not from the cold) with a sudden realization… I have no idea where I am. And by realizing this, I have a mini panic attack.

When I calm down I press my palms against the wall and turn on the first light switch I find, which lucky ignites the whole room with a blinding beam. I let my eyes adjust before opening the door and stepping into the dark hallway. It's not so hard to see with the radiance from my room flowing into it, so I make way to another light switch and flick it up.

I exhale with a slight feeling of relief and exhaustion. All that energy for nothing really important. Obviously I am in the hotel room, and I am a bit ashamed that I had to do all of that for a little ease. And now, although faintly tired, I will not be able to fall back asleep… Great.

I tip toe passed the few doors of the hallway, stopping whenever the wood makes a squeaky noise, and peer around the corner to the living room. In the shadows I can see the silhouette of a mini refrigerator, a few couches, and then one of a television set. Below that is a box, and blinking in neon green it says:

4:06 a.m.

Damn.

* * *

~x~X~x~

The next time I open my eyes I am met, in daylight, with something slightly tan and gold. I blink a few times, confused. After a fifth blink, everything suddenly becomes clear. I gasp.

Somehow, after waking up last night— and my memory is still foggy from that— I made my way into someone else's bed… And that person seems to be Naruto. Who is asleep. And is shirtless. And has his arms wrapped around my waist. And is my _brother_.

God help me.

I just lay there taut and holding my breath, face to face with him. We are _way_ closer than I want to be, and way too close to be allowed as _siblings_. Maybe he'll just… Roll over or something. Though hopefully not on top of me, that would be even worse.

But _no_, play with my destiny, why won't you?

Instead of what I prayed for, he practically does the reverse and opens his eyes— slowly, as if he is drugged or something. Maybe he will just close them again…

"Mmm…" He bustles… or groans, "You aren't the hot girl from just a few minutes ago…"

He blinks a few times, and I get red in the face— from holding my breath, _of course_.

"Wait…" He murmurs. With eyes wide, I wait tolerantly, edgily, and then… comes the yelling, "WHAT THE HELL?"

The arms draped around me are gone, and before I can release my held breath, Naruto has already speedily rolled to the other side of the bed and fallen off. He huffs heavily, using the side of the bed to assist him up from the ground, and hysterically cries, "WHAT. THE HELL? HOW—? W-WHY? I don't understand! WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT?"

"What do you mean?" I quiz, befuddled. It took me a few minutes, "EW! NO! _DEFINITELY_ NOT!"

The other teenagers in the orphanage used to talk foul all the time, but this is unadorned ghastly.

He just gives me a terrified look and seizes his golden hair with his fists.

"Relax, Naruto," I articulate, sitting up, "_Nothing _happened."

"How do you know?" He questions, frenetic and petrified, and most of all, dismayed, "Oh God, I don't even remember how you got in here. How did _I_ even get here? What happened? Oh no Tsunade's going to kill me!"

I crease my face up in repugnance, "Are you kidding me? This is stupid! Look, we both have clothes on, and even though I can barely remember anything, or even how I got into this hotel, I know for a fact that we didn't… _do_ anything." I shudder at the thought.

Naruto stops pacing and looks at me with large sapphire eyes, "What if we were drugged?"

"No! We _weren't_!" I massage my temples and stand up from the bed, "Look, nothing happened. I must have wandered here and fell asleep, thinking it was my own room. Besides, why would we be drugged? Tsunade was with us the whole time in the car."

"Or was she?"

I stare angrily at the boy, because he was making such a major deal out of nothing, "So you think we were kidnapped and put in some hotel?"

"… Could happen."

"Go put a shirt on." I grouse, walking out of his room. I make my way to the living room and plop down on the divan. I remember the neon green numbers from last night and look to the same spot. Now they read:

9:51 a.m.

Ooh, new Personal Record for me! I've never woken up past eight in the morning!

A few minutes later Naruto comes in— with a shirt on— and falls into the couch closest to me.

"I think we should check the other rooms."

"Oh, for heaven's sake! Nothing happened! And I say that for the hundred time because it's _true_! If something happened we would have remember!"

"But if we were drugged, then…"

"— But we _weren't_! I know. I remember waking up at four in the morning, and that's it, but I'm pretty sure I didn't feel drugged then." I puff in enragement.

"Tsunade may not be here though." He reflects aloud, crumpling his eyebrows together and looking at the ground.

I point to the little purse next to him, "You're sitting right next to her bag. She's here. Now can we drop it?"

"… I guess."

"Good, because it embarrassing. Can we not bring this up when Tsunade is here?"

Naruto agrees with a small "Yeah" though I can tell the issue is still bothering him. I don't know why. Tsunade comes in a moment later in her night gown, and smacks the back of Naruto's head… quite hard, might I add. He recoils, cringing at her words:

"That's for yesterday and last night!"

"I'm sorry! It wasn't my fault I was drugged!"

I mentally smack my forehead. Tsunade gives the idiot a brief, pure, bamboozled look— probably internally promising to pry him for information later— before brushing his comment off.

"Do you know how much trouble you put the poor hotel staff through?" The amber eyed lady hastily gives me a look that says, 'You too', before continuing, "I don't know why neither of you would wake up yesterday! I was actually considering leaving you both in the truck, though what kind of mother would _I_ be?— and what would the paparazzi get out of it?— Well, anyways, _you_, Naruto, had to be hauled _all_ the way up here on some luggage cart, you lazy idiot! Poor people were being bombarded with ragging fans and… ugh, paparazzi." Her face contorts into an expression of mild abhorrence. "And _Sakura_ practically passed out on the way up here— You kept on muttering something about that water Mr. Hiori gave you guys and how you would have liked soda instead— Do you know how many shots they probably got of you two like that?"

"I'm guessing a lot…?" Naruto suggested, ashamed.

"Huh, probably more!" Tsunade fumes. Her face, being scarlet from her rant, cools and turns to its normal shade, "But not as much for Naruto as for Sakura. We used a blanket to cover him, and it's normal that, nowadays, you, Sakura, gets more screen action off set anyways."

I purse my lips jointly. Well, there's nothing I can do about it now.

"Well, while you guys were passed out, I called Mr. Hiori last night," Tsunade utters, sitting beside Naruto, who noticeable lights up at the news.

"Mr. Hiori?"

"Yup. The perverted director from yesterday," My blonde haired guardian pauses, reluctant to continue.

"So?" Urges Naruto impatiently. Tsunade sharply looks to her side, silencing the boy with a deadly glare.

"So… I halfhearted, falsely, remorsefully… accepted the damn _offer_." (Naruto is jumping off the walls now) "Though it was more like an order coming from him in the first place. And Naruto certainly built up in his little mind that Sakura _must_ be the one to have the part in this new series… We made a little _agreement_." She scowls to herself.

Now I'm getting bothered.

"And… what exactly are those agreements?" I prod doubtfully, eying Tsunade through narrowed eyelids.

"Well…" She started, looking down at the coffee carpet and pressing her lips together in a line, "We agreed that you'd go through some…changes."

"How so?"

"Mm… Looks-wise… Schedule-wise… Just overall— Wait! Don't interrupt. We also agreed that you'd be spending more time with Sasuke Uchiha—!"

"THE BASTARD?"

Naruto collapses on the floor, rolling in a fit of '_no_'s, and '_my poor Sakura_'s. Tsunade hushes him and he goes into some kind of silent brooding.

"Why him?" I grimace, fiddling with the pink locks on my shoulder. I honestly don't like that boy.

"Because… Oh you'll find out. I honestly don't think you're ready," Tsunade runs a hand smoothly through her hair and sighs, gazing up dully at the ceiling, "He can't be _that_ bad… Sure is nice to look at." (She smiles, and I make a face) "You'll enjoy it."

"What's in it for you?" I ask, still frowning, quite out of my power.

Seeing the downwards turn of my mouth, my guardian rolls her eyes and says softly, "Don't worry, I guarantee it'll be worthwhile. Hiori offered me a lot of money… though I only accepted _half_, if that makes a difference."

I don't want to ask how much, so I just keep my mouth shut— for once. I still can't get rid of hat frown.

"Well, were not leaving from this place for a while…"

"Why'd you pick such a crappy hotel, Granny?"

Tsunade's eyebrow twitches, a silent threat to Naruto. She always seems to get angry at everything he does… Maybe it's her own way of motherly love… or maybe Naruto is just annoying…

"I don't think its bad…" I interject weakly.

"Oh, just _wait_. You think this is good?" Naruto asks aimlessly before booming, "When you are a bigger star, you'll be _more_ than surprised."

He continues talking, and it is rude of me, but I tune him out, thinking more on _how_ I can become that big star he is referring to. Suddenly I think back to the conversation with Tsunade.

"— What do you mean, looks-wise?" I question, hiding the offended tone in my voice.

Naruto stops rambling and glances at Tsunade who shrugs.

"Nothing big. Maybe another trip to the salon, some make up, and training— Which reminds me; Naruto, you're going to have to train Sakura at the Konoha Gymnasium—"

"But Sakura is as thin as a toothpick!"

"But they're not looking for _thin_, their looking for _hot_."

"Thanks for the insult." I butt in.

"Sure thing."

…

…

"Well?" Tsunade urges, looking at Naruto and I keenly.

"Now?"

"Yes, _now_. You both are starting to get on my nerves. Leave; make yourselves useful."

I raise my brows at Tsunade as Naruto takes my hand and pulls me off the sofa, leading me towards the metal hotel door. I guess I should have expected the unexpected.

Naruto says that I don't need to bring anything, because everything will already be supplied when we get there. So we leave right away. The door closes with the faint sound of Tsunade muttering something about needing a drink.

* * *

~x~X~x~

With a simple phone call Naruto has apparently scheduled everything for my sudden arrival. I'm impressed. Though what is not surprising when it comes to the rabid, out-of-wack life I have? Hmm, I must contemplate that for several more years before I find less than half of that answer.

We arrive at the large gym— no, more like recreational center— in the newest version of the Cadillac Escalade. It's Naruto's baby, he tells me, and knowing him, he'd kill if it got scratched.

Inside of the gym is beautiful— and did I mention huge? Marble floors and fountains, along with a polished front desk, makes up the lobby, and all is beautifully accented with décor such as fake, and even real plants, vases, some tapestries, and lounging furniture. There is a snack bar, too, and everything is _clean_. Scrubbed until it shines, and vacuumed until nothing is left in the soft fibers of the carpet. The place even has ATMs, and a ticket booth (don't know why).

It vaguely reminds of a bank, or an airport.

In my shock, I am lugged to the front desk, where a receptionist is waiting.

"H-Hello, N-Naruto, sir," A dark haired lady greets shyly. She wears a dark pencil skirt and a blazer over a white blouse, looking way too business-like for being in a gym, "I'm g-glad you c-could m-make it." Naruto flashes a charming smirk— making the girl turn shades of red— before placing an ID on the counter. Still red in the face, she takes it to scan.

"I'll always come as long as you are here," My brother flirts, propping one elbow on the desk and gazing into her eyes seductively. Before swooning, she manages to scan said ID and mutter, "You'll g-get your t-tickets… O-over at… The t-ticket b-booth…"

"I'll be back," He promises the girl as she rests her light head the cool marble of the desk. He takes the ID from her loose grip.

We make our way to the ticket booth as directed.

"Quit playing with her like that. It's rude," I advise, staring straight ahead to avoid his gaze.

"Playing? What makes you think I don't like her?"

I shrug and scrunch my nose up at my upcoming thoughts, "I don't know. I guess it's stereotypical, but I didn't think celebrities fell for normal people. I just assumed."

I don't need to look to see he is insulted.

"Hmph! You're a celebrities now, too ! And we do! Not always, but…" And with that unfinished thought, Naruto rushes to the ticket counter with his ID to receive the tickets. His ID, Naruto then informs, will be given to him when he leaves. He exchanged it for the tickets, but also used it previously (at the reception desk) to charge his account for the them. Give and take, I suppose. Though I've never had experience with it.

A man near a roped off area takes our tickets and lets us through. Naruto then leads me down some stairs, and through some passages, and then we phenomenally arrive at a gym. A_ gym_. A normal, workout place. Like everything else, it is enormous. I could get lost if the large amount glass walls didn't let me see everything.

"Wait here." Naruto orders as he disappears without another word. It is a bit aggravating— being left when you don't know where you are, or who is around you, I mean.

"Hey," someone says, though she isn't talking to me, "You're the girl who didn't know who Sasuke Uchiha was, right?"

Okay, apparently she is.

I turn around to come face to face with a pretty blonde girl. She's beaming at me with strangely perfect teeth. "Yeah, what of it?" I ask, slightly irritated by the silly names I'm known by now.

"Oh nothing. Just wondering," She answers nonchalantly, waving it off, "It puzzles me how you can admit to that, I must say."

"Yeah?"

"Well, you _are_ a girl," She identifies, bringing her perfect eyebrows together in thought. She taps her chin with a manicured nail, thinking deeply while waiting for some kind of response to that. I don't.

"He has his own weekly magazine," she informs, "crazy as it sounds. You ought to know him from somewhere. The fact that he has his own magazine says a lot about his status."

"I don't believe I've heard of anything like it." I say.

"They're called _'Hn' Magazines_."

"Hm?"

"No, _'hn'_."

"Huh?"

"_Hn_. As in _'H'_, _'N'_."

"I'm still not understanding you."

The blonde sighs, "His magazines have a specific name, you know, like _C-Weekly_. Well his is called _Hn Magazines_."

I nod to myself, letting this information seep in.

"_Hn Magazines?_"

"_Hn Magazines._"

"Well what the hell kind of name is that? Why don't they just call it _Sasuke Magazines_? Or _Uchiha Weekly?_"

"_Uchiha Weekly _is a taken title," The young lady says with a grin. I tilt my head at what could possibly be in such a magazine, "_Hn Magazines_ got its name because _'hn'_ is a word created by Sasuke Uchiha himself. It is a word cherished by all women. And thus, we will buy the magazine."

I arch my brow.

"True stuff," she assures, shaking her head in approval at her own words, "I'm Ino, by the way. Ino Yamanaka."

"Sakura Haruno," I grumble, still skeptical as I reach my hand out to shake her hand.

~x~X~x~

_To be continued…_

* * *

**An apple for your thoughts?**

**A/N: - My Personal Life :(-**

**Okay before I get to the knitty gritty, I need some advice. I just found out today that my seventeen year old brother has smoked marijuana with his friends, and thinks there is nothing wrong with it. My dad says that he's going to make sure he never does it again, but I suspect my brother is also smoking hookah. At the beginning of the school year, he was totally opposed to smoking and drinking. But lately he has been going out with his friends a lot, and tonight I had a talk with him about hookah. He got really angry and shooed me out of his room, saying, "It's a lifestyle choice, you can't make someone stop." I asked him if he ever had smoked hookah and he said no, but as he answered my questions he kept on looking left (which is an obvious sign of lying). I researched Hookah, and apparently it's addictive, bad for health, and just plain illegal. My brother told me it wasn't, and that people would do it just for fun. -Bullcrap-. Okay, so my question is: How do I get him to stop? **

**I must say, when my dad told me that my brother had smoked marijuana, probably more than once, it was really embarrassing how much I cried in front of him. I care for my brother, even though he's only said I love you to me once in my life— and that was over text… after I helped him sneak out (which my dad killed him for). He was probably high smoking hookah or something, and that also made me said— You know when you can't hold back your tears any longer and you just close your eyes hoping they won't come out? Well that's what I did. But they came out in streams. :'( So can anyone help me, help my brother? Please…**

_**-Moving on**_

**Thank you for reviewing! **

**And if you message me, or if I haven't responded to a review, I'm so sorry! I haven't forgotten, don't worry. I've just been busy. I'll get to that soon :D**

**Thank you ****ClippedWing****! I got a lot of inspiration from your advice! And I also got inspiration for a new story!**

**-Also**

**I changed my pen name because I found out that a girl on FictionPress had the same name as me, and she was taking other peoples work and plagiarizing them. She apologized to all she had offended though, and overall took no credit. I even asked her to change her name too. It sounds mean, I guess, but I didn't want my name associated with those actions even if I changed my pen name anyways. (my previous authors notes and work are signed with it though).**

**But anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! All I can say is that I think it is going well! Wish me luck! By the way, I have started reading Harry Potter, and it's a goal of mine to finish all of them by the end of summer (including my summer reading books)**

**YAY FOR A LONGER CHAPTER!**

**Signing off:**

**applz**


	5. Nine

~x~X~x~

The Fame

Chapter 5: Nine

Written by: _applzrgud4u_

~x~X~x~

* * *

So Ino enlightens me that _the_ Sasuke Uchiha comes here to work out _every day_. Though, for the past few weeks I have yet to see him. And I hope deep within my soul that it stays that way. Speaking of Ino, my new blonde gym buddy— besides Naruto, who is technically a trainer— works for a magazine company (so she tells). She's usually the one who attends events and takes photos for the issue. I find that strangely fascinating. Imagine how much work is put into the many articles of a magazine just to please the common persons' need to know about the world, and most interesting; celebrities. And imagine the commoners just simply skimming the work, looking for pictures or snippets of importance, while ignoring the tiny article that someone may have spent days writing and researching. Ino's job is the total opposite of a celebrity's, in my opinion. Fun stuff that goes unnoticed (a.k.a. Ino's career), or stuff that _looks_ fun, but isn't, that goes noticed (i.e. my career)? Hmm. I'd rather have her job than mine, I've concluded— if working out is right now considered my profession… ? They are pissing me off about this "get (hot)" thing though. I don't work miracles, people!

All this gym talk is disrupting my normal breathing pattern. Let's stop.

Naruto is getting mad at me for it.

"You have to breathe in your nose and out your mouth _normally_! Stop panting like a dog!" Naruto punishes, practically breathing down my neck as I run the treadmill of Konoha Gym. My legs are gasping in pain and my face has the icky hot-sweaty feeling, "Run faster!"

I glare at Naruto through the corner of my eye. He doesn't see, because if he did, we would have yelled for me to look forward. Bluntly, I didn't suspect Naruto to be so rough. Tsunade is probably strangling to poor boy to work magic in the allotted time we have. A time limit for me to get "hot".

That word is going to mean a whole new thing to me after this experience is over. And the meaning won't be anything pleasant.

"Did I hear dogs?"

I look to the entrance of the treadmill department— somewhere in the vicinity of my looking-forward-vision so Naruto won't yell— and see a brunette boy, about my age, looking curiously around for, what I am assuming, dogs. He has two triangular, red, tattoos on his cheek. When he spots me he gives me a wolfish grin and howls. I didn't know humans could howl.

"Got yourself a nice catch there, eh?" He says, wiggling his eyebrows at the trainer to my side.

"She my _sister_." Naruto bites out, and I'm not so sure I should look at him to see his expression.

"You have a sister?" Kiba blurts out in astonishment before waving off the comment, "Well, who cares, that means more for me."

He rubs his hands as if he is about to chow down. I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.

I can tell Naruto is restraining his string of curses.

"Go find a hooker, Kiba."

"Maybe later," Said person muses, though he gives me a suggestive look.

"Tattoos aren't my thing," I admit to him, in the kindest way possible. I then eye the markings on his cheek.

"Don't worry babe," he flirts— babe is another word that just recently, as in now, is able to turn my ears bitter—, "They're the fading kind of tattoos."

I grunt in disapproval and roll my green eyes. Naruto shoos the annoying kid away— and it works, though the kid doesn't leave until I look at him for him to send me a wink. There goes my stomach acting up again. Did I drink spoiled milk today?

"Excuse the ignorant hound," utters Naruto, "He thinks he's a player."

I don't respond and instead, just focus on my breathing. The boy named Kiba _could_ be a "player", I suppose. Though, I shudder to think of his ego if he was. He is handsome, I'll admit. And he did have a nicely built body. I can't see why— at first glance— a girl wouldn't be attracted. Well, if he opened his mouth first that would be another story _entirely_.

"So," Naruto speaks to make conversation, "You excited about working on the set? You get your script tomorrow."

I take a shaky breath in— Hey, I'm still running— and say as steadily as I can, "Not really."

"Why not?" He exclaims in shock, "If you're worried about having fun, don't worry, because I assure you the work isn't all that big. You'll love it, I promise!"

I feel a bit ashamed that he guessed correctly— though, I am really just worrying about being happy, and not about fun— And I feel even worse because I don't trust him on that.

I shake my head, "I don't want to be famous."

I finally look over to Naruto and see him staring at the mirrors in front of us with his eyebrows knitted together. He seems to be spacing out, or almost thinking of something he regrets. Finally, he opens his mouth:

"Why?"

"I don't want to go to interviews," I frown, gazing straight ahead again, "I don't want to be followed by paparazzi and have them grabbing at my heels. I don't want to be bombarded with pens and papers. I just want to be _happy_."

Naruto is frowning as well.

"You're just not used to it… You've only been a 'celebrity' for a little over a month, and it's really not as bad as you think. I mean, you're only upset because you haven't _done_ anything yet. You feel like… like… you have no _reason_ to be famous. Like you don't deserve it. But you see, that's where Tsunade comes in," He looks at my hopefully, but I just think he is brainwashed with these ideas, "When you accomplish something, you will feel proud, and, sure, being famous has it's downsides, but by accomplishing whatever it is that makes you famous, there is always that joy to fame."

"Naruto, you have such philosophical views for someone who acts so… Odd, most of the time… But still, your views are so stereotypical," I sigh, shaking my head once again, "I know I shouldn't be talking since I have never really been a true celebrity, but I disagree with what you are saying."

"You will see," the blonde says with an attempt at a grin, "I have no worries about that."

For some reason I find myself strangely scared at what comes next in my life.

* * *

~x~X~x~

The next day, while Naruto was away somewhere— probably upstairs with the receptionist: he goes there during our breaks— and I was at the water cooler getting a drink, Ino comes running up to me. I raise a pink brow at her, because she has her hands on her knees panting for air. She looks up with a look in her eye that makes me edgy.

"Guess who's here?" She huffs excitedly, a wide grin in place.

"Do I want to know?" I asked warily, sipping the cool liquid from my paper cup.

"Sasuke Uchiha!"

I almost spit my water right in Ino's face, but instead I choke on it.

"Sasuke and some of the cast and crew," Ino informs, "Even the director."

I pound at my chest and cover my coughs, staring at the blonde girl in worry.

"Why?" I croak.

"No idea. Last I saw they were talking with Naruto upstairs in the lobby. I'd say it's something about you."

I give my friend a terrified look and gulp down the rest of my water before filling up the cup again.

"Here," Ino says, grabbing a paper towel from the dispenser and wetting it under the water cooler, "If they are going to come down and see you, I suggest you cool down and wipe off most of the sweat."

She hands the paper to me and I dab it on my forehead, letting the cold feeling calm me down. I breathe in and out slowly, though not large and exaggerated. It's no big deal that they are coming down to see me… not at all.

After a ten minute wait, I give Ino a bored look, "Are you sure they are coming down?"

"I never said they _were_." She says defensively, avoiding my gaze.

Just then I hear a chatter of voices coming from the nearby staircase. I tense up, constricting the cup until it crumbles and launches water all over the blue carpet, turning it shades darker. Ino sends me a peek that translates to, "Do something, they're here!"

So I toss the cup into the trashcan and shake my hand of the remaining water. A group of people instantly flow out of the stairwell as I dry my hand on my sweat pants. My jaw falls when I see… two complete strangers, a male and a female. They briefly look my way and then turn off. I stare after them in distress. So much for Sasuke Uchiha.

"Sakura, darling!" I hear, clamping my mouth shut with such force that it hurt. I turn. Standing in front of the same stairwell, probably following after the two strangers, is my director, Mr. Hiori. A faint smile fakes its way onto my lips as he waves and makes his way over to me. Behind Mr. Hiori is a small group of people, though my eyes automatically go to one person at his flank.

It is Sasuke Uchiha.

And he is looking most appealing, as always. I think this with no sarcasm, though I inwardly roll my eyes. It's befuddling how he has no flaws. It's like I can only expect him to look to same, day after day, with that same photoshop machine built right into his face.

Mr. Hiori comes into my almost complete vision and extends a hand, asking, "How are you?"

"Good," I respond lightly, shaking his hand with my right, although it probably feels cold and moist from the previous encounter it had with water. Mr. Hiori pecks one cheek and then the other in a greeting. It's a bit weird after that, but I shake off the feeling. Consciously I can feel _Mr. Uchiha_ staring at me.

"I can see," he says in almost awe, scanning my body— I note in my mind how uncomfortable his eyes make me feel, "I'm glad that training is finally working. We were wondering how much longer you'd need in order so we can start shooting. You know we can't shoot much without you."

"I'm not sure how much time I need, though Tsunade said you gave us 'till—." I start, a bit nervous. A feeling like this has never particularly taken place at anytime in this month other than now (besides the first trip by myself through Amegakure) and its aggravating how it takes affect on me all of a sudden.

"Don't be silly, my dear," He chortles, "We are the ones to decide how much time you need— based on how you look, of course. And speaking of which, Sasuke over here is going to visit you everyday to see when he thinks you're ready. After all, you two are the ones getting all… Physical, so it ought to be right for him to help decide."

The big man laughs again. Physical? I feel a lump form in my throat and my eyes go slightly wide. Peeking over to my left, I search for Ino. She is nowhere in sight, so I am left to believe that she fled.

Lucky

"Since we cannot possibly wait to start with this series, we decided to move the set to closer to the main parts of Konohagakure. It will be closer to you now, dear, and you and Sasuke can spend _much_ more time together, as promised," I don't miss the flirty grin he shoots the two of us, "And without further ado, I will leave you and Sasuke to discuss when you will be meeting."

With yet another suggestive smile, he snaps his fingers twice— like he did when we first met— and ushers the few people of the crew he had with him up the stairs.

There is a prolonged silence as Sasuke and I stare at each other. I can only imagine what is going through his mind, and I doubt it is flattering. It makes me oddly self conscious. Meanwhile, I am constructing a fool proof way to get out of this and avoid having to do anything… Physical, with Sasuke Uchiha.

I've never had a relationship, so my experience level is at zero…

But you never know if Mr. Hiori was really talking about love, or if he just had a perverted way of saying "exercise", or something of the sort.

"What time do you arrive here."

I blink a few times to get out of my train of thought. I could have sworn he just asked a question.

"U-umm…" I drone, shaking my head to clear my understanding, "it varies from about nine to ten in the morning."

"Nine." He affirms, walking off without another sound.

I stand dumbfounded.

"Okay… Way to _compromise_." I mumble. I guess he's a man of few words.

* * *

~x~X~x~

"Sakura you're script came in today," Tsunade informs happily, handing me said packet, which is thicker than I had imagined. Although my curiosity is peeked from what Mr. Hiori implied, I place the book on the nearby coffee table.

"Tsunade?" I question. She gazes up at me from her mail scanning, "I have a question about Mr. Hiori."

The blonde haired lady straightens her back and says with trivial irritation at the man's name, "Shoot."

"Does… Does everything he _say_ come out like some sexual innuendo? Or is some of it true?"

Tsunade bites her lip, "What did he say?"

"Well… He said that Sasuke and I would be doing 'physical' things."

"I don't know if it's true," She begins, looking contrite, "But knowing him, the innuendo is true and intended… Maybe you should just read the script to be sure."

And so I do.

* * *

~x~X~x~

"Could you quit staring at me? It's bothersome."

"If I do, will you go any faster?"

I glare at him.

Sasuke came at nine on the dot, like he said. Well, I _also_ came at nine. What's the problem, you ask? As Sasuke puts it, I was supposed to get here earlier than him, so I could get my workout for the day. (Naruto was unable to come, so I'd be doing it without a trainer).

"Excuse me for not knowing that I had to come earlier than I usually do for _you_, Uchiha," I slightly chastise, scowling at him as I run the treadmill, "It's not my fault you just walked off without explaining what you meant by 'Nine'."

"Hn, it's common sense," he stated monotonously.

"Common sense my ass!" I seethe, "I don't even know why we have to meet."

"To talk about the script."

"There is nothing about it to _talk_ about. My character doesn't know you for these first two episodes."

"This is your job now; I suggest you follow the directions given to us, Haruno."

By _directions_, I know he means the director's instructions. We absolutely _must_ hang out, no matter how much either one of us refuses. The script I received yesterday was only of two episodes, and to my relief, neither one has any romance in it. My hope is up that these no-kissing-no-sex episodes will last.

Sasuke flips through his draft and I seize this time to study him. Every time I see him, I think the same thing: Photoshop. All parts of him appeal to my eye, alas for me. His appearance is faultless; his jet black spiky hair, his deep bluish-black eyes, and his clear pale skin. Even his physique attracts me. The picture is ruined by the boy's persona. Note how I only say his _appearance_ is perfect.

Sasuke looks up ever so slightly from his spot in the chair, "Do you need something?"

"Are we going to discuss this script or not?"

"After you finished your workout."

"Guh…"

"Hn?"

"Guh. It's a sound used to express exasperation. What, I can't make up my own words like you?"

Glare.

"Hn, whatever…" He rolls his eyes and continues to scan his script.

"That's what I thought," I say in triumph. The minor sentiment of superiority fills me, and I smirk silently. As fanatical as the idea sounds, I somewhat enjoy bantering with the Uchiha boy.

* * *

~x~X~x~

Three weeks pass before Sasuke and Mr. Hiori deem me worthy as far as fitness goes. And what torture I went through during those three weeks. Naruto had come at around seven in the morning to the gym with me— always mentioning something about how the Bastard (a.k.a Sasuke) was trying to steal me. Then he would leave me to shower and get ready for my little meeting with aforementioned Bastard. Those meetings weren't all too pleasant. In fact, I don't think I managed to _not_ argue with him once. Sometimes we would go out to eat, or to get a snack, but it didn't matter where we were, I just always had a hard time warming up to him. On the upside: We began, to some extent, to get to know one another. Though that was as far as it went.

"My flower, you are looking more fantastic than the last time we met!" Hiori welcomes in his usual cheery mood. By now I am used to the tiny pet names, "Please, sit!"

I walk into his large office and sit right next to Sasuke on the futon facing Mr. Hiori's desk. Our eyes meet in a silent greeting.

"I'm so glad you two are getting along! I can already tell you two have chemistry!" (My brain just exploded) "But now now lovebirds, don't get too close," he warns (in which Sasuke and I scowl at each other and inch apart simultaneously), "at least not until later. If the media catches you sneaking off, they might assume things that haven't already happened when we start filming."

"…"

"…Hn."

"There there, I know that is upsetting news, but don't look so down! Cheer up!"

Oh, Mr. Hiori, you are so ignorant…

"Well, more on why I called you two here today," he begins, fiddling with a stray pencil he finds on his desk, "We need to start making preparations for filming. My wonderful Tsunade is going to bring you to the salon, Sakura dearest, and after that you and Sasuke are to report to the set building for costume fitting and photo shoots. This is so exciting, isn't Sakura?"

I nod with a weak grin. A nervous knot forms in my stomach at the thought of merely having photo shoots, let alone actual filming. I can't tell if the feeling is one of anticipation, or dread.

All I know is that whatever I'll be doing, ninety percent of it will now be spent with Sasuke Uchiha.

_To be Continued…_

* * *

**An apple for your thoughts?**

**A/N: Okay, so how was it? Hmm, it still seems unclear to me. I'm not sure I explained enough. If you have any questions please leave a review. Also, sorry for any mistakes, typos/errors, ect. I kinda did this in less than a day :P**

**Moving on, thank you to all of my reviewers and to all of the people who read this! I appreciate you! :D**

**PS: I have this weird obsession with Rupert Grint now… I have started reading Harry Potter (did I mention this before?), and I LOVE Ron/Rupert. Rupert is sooo hot! I love gingers! I'm also obsessed with Ron and Hermione as a couple. I think Rupert Grint and Emma Watson should be together in real life too! "Just good friends" my ass! They look so cute together! And, from the interviews, it looks like Rupert is crushing on her!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or the characters. I DO own the plot of this story. I wrote it. Yea. That's right.**

**-applz**


	6. Oomph

~x~X~x~

The Fame  
Chapter 6: "Oomph"  
Written by: _applzrgud4u_

~x~X~x~

* * *

Tsunade, as Mr. Hiori promised, brings me to a salon the next morning. Though it isn't just any regular salon, I can see. It is huge, with tall glass windows and a large metal banner, and spinning doors too. The inside is decorated so fancifully that I might think every celebrity goes here.

Heck, for all I know, they probably do.

As we walk in Tsunade is greeted by about ten different people who drop everything and rush to us.

"Hello, Ms. Tsunade!"

"How are you?"

"We've got everything set up already."

"Please follow us!"

Tsunade is led somewhere by four staff members, leaving me with the other six. They send me excited grins, their eyes shining with I don't know what. Truthfully, it was creepy. I've never had people so delighted to see me. Not know what to do but stand there, one lady grabs my hand and tugs me in another direction.

"You have such luscious, soft hair, Ms. Haruno! I'm jealous." The lady says as she seats me and meddles with my tresses.

"Thank you," I reply. She asks me to tilt my head back into the sink and turns the warm water on, placing a towel over me and the back of my neck. My mind sort of wanders into a different world until she is finished and brings me over to get my hair cut.

"Do prefer having long hair, Ms. Haruno?" I am asked. The question makes me think for a few minutes.

"I suppose."

She grins wholeheartedly at me through the mirror I now face, "Just wondering." Pulling out a shiny hair of scissors and a comb, she begins to cut off length, though still leaving quite a lot left. Time passes with no improvement or change to the silence, so I gaze up at the flat screen television in the corner of the room, trying not to move my head. It is tuned to the C-Weekly (a.k.a Celebrity Weekly), channel, and I try to strain my ears as much as I can when a picture of Sasuke and I floats onto the screen. The lady begins to cut side-bangs, making it harder to see though the wet locks.

"_Speaking of celebrity hook-ups, it seems there is one new couple that is taking the world by storm!_"

A few paparazzi pictures of Sasuke and I (in disguise) at a coffee shop appear next to the reporter.

"_The most desirable Sasuke Uchiha and the celebrity newbie Sakura Haruno have been seen, on several occasions, together. This surprising news has got many young women out there asking, 'What is going on?'. Are they dating? The availability of Sasuke Uchiha is what drives women crazy. If he's taken, does that leave him less popular? What will become of Sakura Haruno from this? We have more on this story when we come back!"_

The show cuts to commercial, and suddenly the hairstylist stops what she is doing.

"You and Sasuke Uchiha are going out?" She squeals with wide, frightened, eyes. My eyebrows knit together as I gaze at her through the mirror.

Oh goodness…

"No, no! Of course not," I defend. She shoots me a sideways glance, still looking worried.

"We're just…" I say, searching my mind for an answer, "Good friends."

As the words replay in my ears, I cringe. Sasuke and I, friends? The thought almost makes me want to laugh. Who in the right mind would believe that anyway? Well, it is good enough, considering the world is so gullible as to think Sasuke and I are _going out_. Che. It's a ridiculous notion!

The stylist, sighs, grinning at me, "That's good. I was worried for a moment. You know, the media always messes up things. It's always good to hear the real story."

I nod in false agreement, smiling back at her as she continues to finish up my new style

After my hair is completed being cut, the lady brings me to another station to get waxed— which is one of the most excruciating things ever, considering I have never particularly shaved my legs before (you could never really see my leg hair anyways), nor have I gotten my eyebrows waxed. When the worst part (that's what they told me, though I can never be sure if they have any other things in store for me) is over, I am dropped off at another station and shoved into a soft robe after stripping to my underwear and bra.

Three ladies begin work on me simultaneously. One sits me down in a large, cushiony chair and guides my feet into a tub of blue, bubbling water. She then leaves to fetch some supplies, while another lady at my flank takes my hand, puts it on the armrest, and begins massaging it with a soaking, warm towel before repeating the action with a minty lotion. Meanwhile, the third is pinning and tying my hair back. She reaches for a wet towel and begins dabbing my face.

When the first one returns, she holds a basket with an enormous amount of equipment. She pulls one of my feet out of the ocean-y water and rubs a scrub from heel to knee, doing the same for the other foot before using a shower head to douse it down. I don't even know _what_ the next one is doing to my hand with these chemicals, but it seems she is giving me a manicure (judging by the nail polish sticking out of her pocket). The last one is smearing some gooey substance all over my face. She presses a button on the side of the chair, making something inside of it painfully roll up my back, and then takes lotion out to rub on my neck.

Ignoring the subtle tugs of the ladies working and the parading of the chair on my back, I look around for a TV. I spot one, though instead of being on C-Weekly, it is on the WHATTV channel. Nonetheless, the people are reporting on the new '_buzz'_ of 'Sasuke and Sakura'. I inwardly curse at it all. It seems that, despite our obvious dislike towards each others, people are still assuming the worst. Mr. Hiori had said that we shouldn't get too close (not that we _would_), or the media will assume.

Another photo of Sasuke and I pops up, and my jaw drops.

"Are you serious?" I blurt out, and many of the store's occupants turn to look at me.

I dismiss them and focus on the real issue at hand.

The picture is of when Sasuke and I were at the park discussing the next three episodes of script that had just arrived. We were sitting on a bench (quite far apart from each other, as I remember), and since our discussion was— as Hiori calls it— "top secret", I leaned over to say something, adjusting my sunglasses, and he turned to listen. Unfortunately, the picture was edited so that Sasuke and I were closer, and so that Sasuke's eyes were magically closed. It seemed like we were about to kiss.

"_I'm sorry, ladies— and some gentlemen—, but I believe it is official."_ The announcer said, _"Sasuke Uchiha and Sakura Haruno are indeed, dating."_

* * *

~x~X~x~

* * *

"Aww, Sakura!" Naruto exclaims as I stomp in to the set building, "You look so pretty!"

I shoot him a glare, and he takes a wary step back, correcting, "—I mean, you look like you're going to kill someone."

I simply sigh, letting the goof give me the usual bear hug.

My brother quickly brushes off my mood after losing interest and leads me through the corridors until we reach a wide, metal double door. He pushes it open, ushering me into a large dark studio. There is camera equipment, lights, and computers all surrounding one lit area. Clothes racks hang here and there, vibrant colored attire and odd looking accessories clipped onto them. Against one wall is a hair and makeup area with pristine mirrors surrounded by dim light bulbs. I see Mr. Hiori somewhere near the computers with his team of workers, ordering people around. I try not to trip over the wires as Naruto guides me to him.

"— put them in separate piles, and bring them to the dressing room. Hurry! And get me some coffee on the way!" Hiori calls over to one woman as she rushes off to do his bidding. He then turns to one man holding a camera, beginning to whisper.

Naruto raises his fist to his mouth and clears his throat. Almost immediately Hiori spins.

"Oh, my sweet Sakura!" He exclaims after laying eyes on me. He claps his hands together in joy, "You look _stunning_!"

"My sister has _always_ been stunning!" Naruto defends. Mr. Hiori waves the boy off, whirling around to speak to a slacker. Meanwhile I shoot Naruto a warning glare.

"Naruto," I say while elbowing him, "I understand your need to be the _'protective'_ brother, but that's unnecessary."

He rubs the back of his head and gives an apologetic grin.

"Okay," Mr. Hiori cheers as he addresses me, "Now that you are here, all you need to do is change and get your make-up done! I trust Uzumaki will lead you to where to you need to be."

He glares shortly at Naruto, loosening the intensity when the boy gives him a nod.

And so, Naruto brings me down some hall to the girls' dressing room door, telling me that he'll pick me up when he's done. I knock, waiting for an audible "Come in" over the chatter inside, before opening the door. The room is just a large open space with clothes racks against the walls and mirrors practically everywhere. The only things that truly catch my eye is the intense disarray of the room— piles of stuff in random corners and on random tables, make up already opened, bottles of hairspray, and sewing kits— and the crowd of girls occupying the room, all of them pausing in whatever action to look at me.

I struggle at a smile, gazing around awkwardly. All of a sudden they all start bustling again, talking and working at the same time. A very beautiful, tall and skinny blonde lady comes up to me a few seconds later.

"Hey," She says, extending a hand, "I'm Temari, from Sunagakure."

"I'm Sakura," I shake her hand, "From Konohagakure."

"Naruto asked me to help you get settled, so, please, follow me."

I'm a bit surprised at first. I thought she came up to me because she wanted to be friends… I suppose not. As she leads me to the other side of the room, next to a table full of laid out attire, the other girls in the room seem to give me odd looks. They are probably angry with me. Frankly, the thought of being disliked kind of hurt…

"Usually Leads get their own dressing room, so I'm sorry if it's cramped. For now though, these are your outfits. After each one, from left to right, Hiori specifically asked that you go out to get checked and to get your pictures taken."

"Thanks," I say, but Temari is already gone.

I put on the first outfit— a very skimpy jean mini skirt and yellow tank top— and head out. The outfit is _very_ uncomfortable. Definitely something I _wouldn't_ wear on a daily basis. Naruto is waiting for me in the hallway. He scans over my body with his eyebrows pulled together.

"Typical Hiori," he mumbles, sucking his teeth in disapproval.

When we reach the "set" (I don't even know what to call it), everything seems to be ready and in order. Naruto and I go to our respective makeup artists. Mine is a tall boney brunette who wears heels despite her height. She needs to bend over quite a lot for me.

"Just a little bit," She said as she added eyeliner and mascara, "We don't want to kill that natural look."

I don't bother looking at the result afterwards.

"Sakura!" Mr. Hiori calls from the computers, "Come over here darling!"

Once I am next to him, he turns to scan me, lifting his new sunglasses onto his head. "Perfect! Perfect! Just perfect!" He cheers, clapping his hands together in glee (he does that a lot). I frown, pulling my skirt down a bit.

"Sakura, don't do that. You'll ruin it," he scolds, looking around swiftly, as if someone was missing.

My frown deepens, but Mr. Hiori continues rambling, "Okay, now all we have to do is get to the photo shooting. Aiyame! Did you double check if the flash works? And you got the newest photo shop, right?— Where is that boy Sasuke?— And where is my coffee, Aiyame? I asked for that fifteen minutes ago!— Ah! There he is!"

I turn a full 180 degrees, finally spotting Sasuke walk towards us in the geekiest outfit I have ever seen— well, the geekiest outfit I've ever seen _on him_. When we went out (to study the script, duh), he'd always dress nice. I supposed you could say I admire his sense of fashion— though it is possible that his Mummy still dresses him. That would make my day. Right now, he is wearing khaki pants with black sneakers and black sweater vest over a white dress shirt. On his face are those obnoxiously wide brimmed, square glasses.

"Great! You're both ready and looking better than ever!" (I stifle a laugh) "Go take your places."

"You look like a nerd," I taunt to Sasuke as we walk into the white area and stand in front of the camera. He gives me a glare straight from hell.

"And you look like a slut."

I step on his foot, causing him to growl and give me that same glower from before. Much to my disappointment, he keeps his cool and ignores me for the most part, staring straight ahead. I'm about to do the same, but I notice something about his glasses. Acting on curiosity, I reach my hand up and hook my finger through them, pressing my lips together.

"You need lenses," I say as he turns to scowl at me, "Nerd glasses have lenses."

"It's called being geeky-cute, ever heard of it Haruno?"

"_No,_ I haven't. That's like, an oxymoron. How can you be geeky and cute at the same time?"

He rolls his eyes, and just as I am about to release my finger from his glasses, I see a flash. Sasuke and I both look over to the photographer, who is a short, stout man with a graying mustache.

"Sorry, sorry," he says, waving his hand, "Just a test."

"Hey, that one was pretty good…" Mr. Hiori muses, tapping the side of his jaw in thought. He looks from the computer—where the picture was transferred through wires—, up to us, and then back down and up again, "Sasuke, lose the sweater vest."

"But he's supposed to be a geek!" I say in disbelief.

"Sakura, dear, he still looks a_dork_able," (I think I just choked on air), "don't worry. But we can't make it look too real. He has to have that 'Sasuke Uchiha' in his character. The female audience will already be all over this new side of him; however, without that Uchiha _oomph_— which can be taken away by a simple sweater vest— then he isn't Sasuke Uchiha anymore, and the audience won't appreciate it as much."

I inwardly scoff at his absurd logic. So, basically, Sasuke Uchiha is nothing without his looks. And by this, I mean it's "oomph" Sasuke or no Sasuke. A part of me can see where Mr. Hiori is coming from when he says this. Sasuke is already handsome— no, he's "oomph" handsome (am I using that as an adjective now?)— But with too much geek, he turns into handsome. Just. Plan. Handsome. He turns into a regular _pretty_ _boy_. Not a _hot sexy beast_ pretty boy (and all these adjectives are NOT coming from my mind, but from the general population's view on Sasuke). And hey, I'd think the world would be fine with that. Apparently they aren't. Sasuke just doesn't hold the same meaning without the Uchiha or the "oomph".

(I find it ironic how "oomph" also means the activeness of an energetic personality; because Sasuke is about the deadest person I've ever known.)

I look over to the boy and see his arrogant smirk. Gah! It makes me so angry! One day someone is going to call him ugly, and I can't wait to see the look on his face when it happens!

"Okay," Mr. Hiori calls, "Are you two ready?"

Sasuke nods while I debate whether or not to lie, or say no. A knot forms in my stomach. This always happens around here! One second I'm fine, and then the next I feel like I might throw up. Stupid, stupid attention. And yes, that is my answer to why this happens. I'm just a natural attention hater.

"Alright."

Sasuke leans toward me and whispers something in my ear that makes me swallow hard.

"Follow my lead, Haruno."

* * *

~x~X~x~

_To be continued…_

~x~X~x~

* * *

**An apple for your thoughts?**

_**A/N (bottom):**__** What was your favorite paragraph?**_

Okay, so I'm really happy that I got this up today. Although, I'm really sorry for the length. I kind of wanted to leave you guys hanging… And I also didn't want this to be forever. So yeah, next chapter is going to be the PHOTOSHOOT! And also something else, which I will NOT reveal to you. Mwahaha!

Well, please tell me how you liked it. Hopefully it was funny, because I honestly couldn't think of any humor, especially in the beginning (and that was a DRAG to write!). My favorite paragraph is the one talking about Sasuke's "oomph". Haha, I enjoyed that.

**Questions? Review!**

**Comments? Review!**

**Review? YES!**

PS: Oh, and apparently "geeky cute" and "adorkable" are actual slang words.

Haha ;)

PPS: That little Temari appearance was relevant, by the way! :D More characters will come in.

Until next time_,_

_Applez_


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